


blow me up

by zxrysky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom, Power Bottom Keith, Riding, are those two words meant to be separate??, boy i didn't know that, flustered Lance, it's mainly keith and lance, okay there's a bit of plot, the rest make a feature appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7777147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zxrysky/pseuds/zxrysky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith has no idea how this starts, whatever this is. All he knows is that Lance is hot, objectively, incredibly attractive with slim hips and tan skin and legs that go on forever, and yeah, Keith is attracted to that. Lance, for all his smart talk and irrational flirting with every girl he sees, is something that, weirdly enough, makes Keith like him.</p><p>Maybe it’s how unattainable he seems. Maybe it’s how fucking straight he seems, but after every mission he gives Keith this look, running his eyes up and down Keith’s body and giving him a tired, happy smile that makes Keith’s abdomen flip up and over inside. </p><p>-=-</p><p>Keith has a thing for Lance. He acts on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blow me up

Keith has no idea how this starts, whatever this is. All he knows is that Lance is _hot_ , objectively, incredibly attractive with slim hips and tan skin and legs that go on forever, and yeah, Keith is attracted to that. Lance, for all his smart talk and irrational flirting with every girl he sees, is something that, weirdly enough, makes Keith _like_ him.

 

Maybe it’s how unattainable he seems. Maybe it’s how fucking straight he seems, but after every mission he gives Keith this _look_ , running his eyes up and down Keith’s body and giving him a tired, happy smile that makes Keith’s abdomen flip up and over inside.

 

It makes his blood roar, and that’s how he ends up pressing Lance against a wall in his room, fingers buried in the belt of his pants, lips pressing against the curve of his collarbone. Lance keens, gripping Keith’s jacket, making these quiet needy noises, pressing back against Keith’s body and he’s not begging, not _yet_.

 

“Tell me you want this,” Keith murmurs in his neck, tracing the path of sweat dripping down Lance’s neck, sucking at the salt and watching the skin purple. Lance cries out, fingers trembling and he clutches at Keith, crinkles his jacket, pulls at his hair, and he makes these shaky noises that Keith can’t _stand_. He adds a hint of teeth, biting at Lance’s neck, and the boy freezes, a sob caught in his throat.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Lance forces out, eyes closed and pulling at Keith, legs weak and shaking. “Please, I want this so bad, just-”

 

And yeah, okay, Keith was just waiting for the smug boy with the pretty eyes and great ass to beg because he slides a leg in between Lance’s thighs and presses _up_ , and Lance practically collapses, held up only by Keith’s arms pushing at his chest. Lance is shaking, quietly moaning, and Keith doesn’t even have to do anything but stand still as Lance moves, undulating on Keith’s thigh, burying his face in Keith’s neck as he chases his pleasure.

 

Keith waits until Lance is sobbing, running the tips of his fingers up and down the length of Lance’s neck and pressing on the bruise, letting him feel the ache and smoothing it over with the flat of his palm, the leather of the glove adding that slight bite that makes Lance shiver. He waits until Lance is shaking apart, murmuring his name like a prayer, and then he grips Lance’s hips, stilling the boy.

 

“No, no, Keith, _please_ ,” Lance begs, eyes wide and shiny, hips struggling to move against Keith’s arms. “Please, just let me, let me, let me have it, _please_ -”

 

“Yeah,” Keith says, lips curling up, looking up at Lance from underneath his eyelashes and he smirks, tightening his grip against Lance’s hips. Lance looks like he’s being torn apart, and he’s never looked prettier. “I’m going to give it to you.”

 

He drops to his knees, and Lance groans at just the sight of Keith on the ground, in between his legs, and his hands fly down to rest in Keith’s hair. He tugs, lightly, gently, probably because he’s wary of making Keith mad, but Keith smiles at him, all teeth, and hooks his thumbs into the rim of his pants.

 

“I’m going to make you come,” Keith purrs, a low sound echoing in his throat as he unbuckles the belt and drags the zipper down with his teeth, looking up at Lance through hooded eyes. Lance whines, and Keith can feel his muscles tighten up, shaking as he slides his gloves up and down the corded muscles on his thighs, lips pulling up when he presses his palm over the bulge in Lance’s boxers and Lance cries out.

 

Lance is begging, eyes blown wide and mouth dropped open in that perfect shape, fingers shaking, and Keith doesn’t play around anymore. He pulls his boxers down and slides his tongue up Lance’s cock in one swift motion, licking at the head and letting the taste linger in his mouth.

 

Lance shouts, bright and loud, letting one hand go and pressing it in his mouth, choking himself on his fist because he doesn’t want to make a sound - doesn’t want to make _too_ loud a sound, not when anyone could be passing by and they _are_ right at the door.

 

Keith leans in, sucking harder - Lance is larger than Keith, a tragedy, but it makes the weight all the better in his mouth, hanging hot and heavy and Keith just loves the feel of Lance’s muscles straining, pushing up against Keith’s hands that are pressing against Lance’s thighs and oh-

 

Yeah, Lance’s a virgin, definitely, with the way he curls up, bends over himself, chest almost touching Keith’s head as he keens, making a noise that goes straight to Keith’s cock, and he grips Keith like a dying man.

 

It’s over in a matter of minutes, but Keith surges forward nonetheless, wrapping his lips around and lapping gently until there’s nothing left, until Lance is pushing weakly at his head, and he leans back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

Lance stares at him like he’s seeing God, and Keith stands up, tucking Lance back in, pulling Lance’s head back with his clean hand and biting at his collarbone.

 

“Are you- are we,” Lance says, eyes half-lidded, limbs loose, and Keith can _see_ the pleasure wafting off him in waves. “Are we gonna-” He gestures at Keith’s pants, which are getting way too tight.

 

“Nah,” Keith says, and sucks a bruise under Lance’s neck.

 

He lets go of Lance, and Lance sinks to the ground, back against the wall, breath coming out in slow pants as he watches Keith leave his room.

 

-=-

 

The cycle repeats. Usually after a mission, when they’re high on adrenaline and Keith needs to work it off, needs to see Lance come apart beneath his hands, eyes wide and desperate and crying, needs to watch Lance shatter.

 

This time isn’t any different. Lance is still in Blue, doing god knows what, and Keith slides into the cockpit, absentmindedly patting Blue for being such a kind, understanding, gracious lion, unlike his paladin.

 

Lance screeches when Keith settles on the dashboard, legs sliding to fit on either side of Lance’s hips, effectively trapping him in the seat. The dashboard is pretty slippery, all metal and nothing to hold onto, and Keith tells himself that’s the reason he slips into Lance’s lap, settling on top of the half hard bulge and rolling his hips.

 

Lance groans, but his legs fall open wider, giving Keith a larger seat and more space to move, hands flying to clutch at his hips.

 

“Bad boy,” Keith says, and he stills, lifting himself off Lance’s lap by just a bit, hovering above and smirking at Lance’s whine. “No touching.”

 

“Ke-” He doesn’t let Lance protest, because Lance is pretty and hot but everything that comes out of his mouth will make Keith change his mind so he forces Lance’s hands off his hips and surges forward, biting at Lance’s lips. He kisses him hurriedly, hands snaking around to the back of the paladin suit to carefully tug the zipper down.

 

Allura would have their head if the paladin suits were ruined, and then Shiro would come after them for being irresponsible. Bad endings all around.

 

Keith braces himself against the dashboard, hands trying to grip against cool metal as he unzips his own paladin suit and lets it slide to the ground, raising an eyebrow as Lance stays glued to his seat, hands clenching the armrests, a bead of sweat trickling down his skin. The bulge is more prominent, even with the hard layer of uniform pressing against it, and that can’t be comfortable.

 

Lance eyes track his body as Keith, dressed in nothing but his boxers now, carefully places the red paladin suit on the floor; Lance’s eyes trace over his back and arms and legs and yeah, Keith thinks, glancing at Lance. Lance is hard. Painfully hard, from the looks of it.

 

“Good,” he says, lips curling up at the side, terribly pleased. He tugs the blue paladin suit off Lance, lingering at his boxers and pressing against the wet spot forming against it, watching as Lance makes a stifled jolt. “Such a good boy.”

 

Lance’s grip tightens on the armrests, and he’s breathing heavily, eyes on Keith, looking all over Keith like a starving man, licking his lips.

 

Keith climbs back into Lance’s lap and Lance’s legs slide open automatically, and Keith rewards him by grinding down once, hard, the pressure of cloth against skin painfully delicious. Lance makes a noise, straining to hold himself back from touching Keith, and Keith can’t help himself.

 

Lance has been so good for him, considering how impulsive the boy usually is, and Keith starts moving, fingers fluttering over Lance’s skin, hips gyrating as he presses down onto Lance’s covered dick, groaning loudly. Lance looks like he’s about to shake out of his skin, looking at Keith like he’s the best thing the world has given him and his lips are parted, breaths coming out of him in quick gasps.

 

Keith brings his hands up to Lance’s face, thumbing at his lips, and traces the soft curve of Lance’s lips, leaning forward to bite at his lower lip.

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance mumbles, looking feverish, and Keith lets his hands reach into Lance’s boxers, tugging it down enough such that his cock is exposed and yeah, it’s just as good as he remembers. He needs skin on skin contact, so he drags his own boxers down and Lance makes a dying noise, eyes locked on where Keith is gripping their cocks together, the leather of his glove burning against the skin as Keith moves faster, harder - it’s like he can’t stop, too focused on chasing his own orgasm, too focused on feeling that mind numbing pleasure, too focused on seeing Lance _shake apart_ and it’s over, just like that, two boys with little experience, coming so quickly that it takes Keith by surprise and burns through his veins.

 

It’s a white-hot pleasure, quick and fast and Keith can feel his body loosening but he forces his eyes open, watches Lance’s eyes roll back in his head and gasp, arms tensing and legs shaking. There’s come on his abdomen, on Lance’s abdomen, and Keith strokes the both of them through it, keeps his hand pumping even though his dick is way over sensitive, keeps the pleasure going with the ever increasing hint of pain and the way Lance shivers is totally worth it.

 

Keith presses against Lance, tightens his grip on their cocks and Lance moans, tilting his body up to press against Keith, eyes hot and hooded.

 

Keith runs his clean hand through Lance’s hair, tugs gently, and presses a kiss against his mouth. He bites under Lance’s chin again, bites hard enough for it to bruise immediately and starts kissing it, gently laves at the skin and Lance shudders, tilting his head higher to give Keith more space to work with.

 

“Stay,” Keith tells him gently, and takes a cloth - that he had prepared previously, he knows what he’s doing - to clean them up; he tugs Lance’s boxers back up, and Keith suits up in the red paladin suit, watching Lance dazedly watch him.

 

He leaves like that, dressed in his red paladin suit, stained cloth in his hands, Lance left in Blue and yeah, it doesn’t mean anything, this whole arrangement doesn’t mean _anything_ , and Keith tries to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

 

-=-

 

It’s another party in the Castle of Lions, when Voltron has saved another planet from destruction and oppressive rule of the Galras and there’s the big celebration, the drinks flowing and food all over the place, and tons of aliens are grateful to them.

 

It just so happens that there are a bunch of pretty aliens flocking around Lance, who admittedly wasn’t too bad out there in the field today, flying like he meant it and taking out almost as many Galra ships as Keith did. Almost as many, because Keith definitely shot down more, no matter what Lance claims.

 

Anyways, regardless of who shot down more Galra ships, Lance is surrounded by pretty aliens who, on a good day for Lance, would just laugh politely and move away. But Lance helped save their planet, and quite gallantly at that in their eyes, so maybe they’re a little more open to Lance.

 

He knows he’s being rude, thinking of his fellow paladin like that, but his vision turns red when the alien closest to Lance laughs, high and bright, and inches closer, pressing her arm against his. They’re in normal clothing instead of the paladin suits, and Lance is wearing his jacket, but that kind of contact is too close for Keith’s comfort. This species closely resembles that of humans, and Keith can see Lance’s flush growing higher on his cheeks, can practically envision his heart rate spiking and hormones flowing.

 

“Sorry ladies,” he says, eyes bright in the artificial light and he puts on his best smile, curling his arm in the hook of Lance’s elbow. He squeezes in on Lance’s other side, and beams apologetically at all the alien ladies present. “I need to talk to Lance for a moment.”

 

Lance shoots all of them a grin even as he leaves with Keith, pressing close and talking a mile a tick about how those ladies were “so sweet, and they even wanted to talk about human customs!”

 

Keith rounds the corner of the corridor and quickens his stride when he sees the toilets, practically dragging Lance along. Lance stumbles but recovers quickly, catching up to Keith’s stride and peering in the cubicles as Keith stalks to the very last one.

 

“Are we doing anythi-!” Lance stammers and blinks, fingers clenching around air as he stares at Keith, on his knees, hands sliding up Lance’s jeans to play with the button and the zipper. “Clearly we are,” he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, eyes lighting up, and Keith wants to wipe that smile off.

 

Lance was- he was, he was doing _something_ , alright, something that made the blood in Keith’s veins sing and it didn’t feel right when all those ladies were pressing up against him, and he tugs Lance’s jeans down to his knees, trapping him right where Keith wants him. He also racks up Lance’s shirt for the sake of it, and draws his fingernails down his abdomen, watching the muscles contract.

 

They’re going to be missed at the party if they don’t show for majority of it, so Keith has to make this quick - not like it’ll be much of a problem, he thinks, dragging his eyes up to Lance’s flushed and dishevelled form, and back down to where he’s filling out nicely against his briefs, a wet spot already forming at the tip. Briefs, Keith notes, and glances up at Lance, who flushes even further. Must mean something.

 

Without any preamble, he fits his mouth there, to the curve of the head, mouths at the fabric and sucks, lightly, and Lance makes a whine before his shaking fingers lift the side of his hood into his mouth, and Lance bites down. This is way more public than the door of Lance’s room, and Keith mourns the lack of Lance’s oh so pretty noises for half a second before he slides his tongue along the rest of the fabric, following the imprint of his dick and presses hard.

 

Lance’s moans are muffled, but his hands tug at Keith’s hair, mussing it up, and his eyes have all the begging in them, those bright blue eyes glinting and that red mouth struggling to bite down on cloth - Keith goes back to the head, curving his mouth around it and sucking hard, harder, and Lance’s grip tightens.

 

The hood falls from his lips and he groans, softer than usual, but loud enough that if someone else were to walk in, they’d hear. Keith presses harder, tongue flicking around the wet cloth; he looks up, and Lance looks down at him, looking absolutely _wrecked._

 

“ _Keith, Keith, Keith,_ ” Lance mumbles weakly, saying his name like a litany, shaking and shuddering apart beneath Keith’s hands and Keith feels like a god.

 

His briefs are soaked through, and Keith tastes the faintly salty taste of Lance’s come. He straightens, looking Lance up and down, and slides his hands up Lance’s abdomen, fingers light against his chest.

 

“Were you jealous?” Lance asks, mouth tilted up in that lopsided smile, and Keith scowls, digging his nails into skin, and Lance, infuriatingly enough, groans. It still sends a jolt to Keith’s dick, but nothing’s gonna happen to him because this thing was all Lance, it was meant to be a _punishment_ , but clearly it looks like it ended up being a reward, and-

 

Keith stills. Punishment for what? For talking to those girls? Lance isn’t- he _isn’t_ Keith’s. Keith has no claim whatsoever over Lance, even with this weird relationship going on between them and it appears he’s just being irrational.

 

“Keith?” Lance says, eyes slightly worried. “You okay?”

 

No, Keith thinks, but he’s not going to tell that to Lance.

 

“I’m heading back first,” he says in reply, and steps out of the cubicle, checking on his hair in the mirror and if his lips are still swollen and wet with saliva and precome. He takes one last look at the cubicle and sees Lance leaning against the wall, weak-kneed, a dopey smile on his face with his jeans still at his knees and his briefs soaked.

 

Keith turns and hurries back to the party, ignoring the salty taste in his mouth and the burn in his chest.

 

-=-

 

It’s another mission, another battle, another face off with Zarkon and his criminal empire of Purple Koalas - Lance mentioned it to him once, and Keith, for the life of him, can’t scrub the image that Sendak looks like a _purple koala_ out of his mind - and they’re horrifically, terribly losing.

 

They’ve invaded another one of Zarkon’s ships, trying to find information on where the mothership was and if possible, where Pidge’s family is kept but this ship was particularly well guarded, or maybe they’ve gotten cocky with the numerous wins against the Galras, but they’re being pushed back.

 

Shiro is off fighting with Allura against a squad of sentries bearing on them - a squad of sentries that never seem to end, more just running around the corner and hefting their guns up to shoot; Pidge is trying to hack the system and get the information they need while Hunk acts as a guard, fighting off those who try to get close to Pidge. Keith- he’s with Lance, despite his best efforts at insisting on remaining in the fight, and suddenly, too fast for him to register, there’s a bolt of purple light and Lance goes down.

 

“Lance!” Keith shouts, swinging his sword and cutting down a few Galra sentries before darting back and looking at him. It looks pretty bad, with a large smoking cut from Lance’s collarbone to the middle of his upper arm and it’s bleeding quickly, waves of red already dripping down the uniform. Lance is still conscious, thankfully, eyes wide open and he’s staring at the wound, like he can’t believe it.

 

“Shiro! Lance’s down!” Keith yells, and he hefts Lance up, slinging Lance’s good arm around his neck, and hooks his arm around Lance’s knees, lifting him up. “He needs help, immediately!”

 

Shiro glances back and his brows crease in worry when he sees Lance, before nodding and signalling to Keith to fall back. “Team, we need to fall back and retreat to the castle immediately! Pidge, try to get the information as fast as you can, we’ll be coming to back Hunk up before we can get to the castle. Keith, take Lance and hurry to the cyropods!”

 

“On it,” Keith mutters under his breath, making sure his grip on Lance is secure before taking off, running to the castle and throwing glares behind him every now and then, trying to scare the Galras chasing behind him into submission. It doesn’t work, and Lance grins tiredly, falling into a daze.

 

There’s a weird fire in Keith’s heart; it clutches at him and burns, all encompassing, and the more he looks at Lance in his arms, bleeding out and in pain, the faster the fire burns. It hurts, oh boy does it hurt, and Lance suddenly blinks into consciousness, frowning as he pokes at the bloodstains on Keith’s suit.

 

“Why’re you bleeding?” He mumbles, weakly gripping Keith’s arm. “Injured?”

 

“It’s not mine,” Keith replies tersely, getting into Red’s cockpit and gearing up to fly back to the castle. Coran’s already paged in, and he quickly leaves to ready the cyropod for Lance’s arrival.

 

“Oh,” Lance says, frowning as he looks at himself. “Me again?”

 

“Yeah, you idiot. You always get injured. It’s bad for your health,” Keith murmurs, and it’s probably a bad decision but Lance is curled up in his lap, the seat slightly retracted to make space for Lance’s long limbs. “Hey c’mon, stay with me.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance replies drowsily, leaning heavily against Keith. “Stay w’you forever. Love you too.”

 

He drops off to unconsciousness again, and Red, bless her, takes over piloting for a while because Keith’s muscles have all locked up, and he’s in shock, his heart’s not beating, he may or may not be going into cardiac arrest, maybe he needs the cyropod more than Lance.

 

-=-

 

Lance presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek before Keith carries him out of Red, and Keith, the tips of his ears bright red, presses his lips to Lance’s right before Coran turns around and they lift Lance into the cyropod.

 

Lance grins, tired but happy, and Keith flushes because he can finally place that burning feeling in his chest.

 

-=-

 

Keith’s an idiot.

 

Lance realises it when they’re in bed, curled up against each other, and Keith is strangely shy about pressing up against Lance to cuddle even though he’s crazy when they’re fucking.

 

Lance tells him that, and Keith growls lowly, eyes lighting up.

 

They don’t sleep for a long while.

 

-=-

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance groans, straining up. “Keith, please stop teasing I swear, I can’t take it, I can’t, I _need_ you-”

 

“You sound so-” His breath hitches, and Keith smirks, placing one hand on Lance’s chest to balance himself. Lance is spread eagled on the bed, wrists tied together at the top of the bed and legs tied apart at each end; he’s sweating, lips curving around pretty words, begging so nicely. “So cheesy Lance, but so desperate at the same time.”

 

Keith laughs breathlessly at the thrust Lance attempts, lifting up with the motion such that Lance doesn’t even _graze_ him, and leans forward so that his fingers can get a better angle. He knows himself - lots of late night explorations will do that to a guy, and Keith finds his prostrate in a matter of seconds. He managed to find some lube - not easy, when one’s in space - but he has it, and Lance’s cock is already slicked up, so all Keith’s got to do is open himself up in front of Lance, slow and good. It’s easy after that, tapping it with fluttering fingers as he pushes more into himself, and when he’s at three, he’s rolling his hips against Lance’s thigh, lips curled up as he watches Lance flush.

 

“C’mon baby,” Lance pleads. “Keith you _said_ you’d stop teasing so much.”

 

“Nah,” Keith replies, carefree and easy, and lets his hand brush against Lance’s dick, rubbing the precome leaking from the slit. Lance keens, clenching his teeth as he bucks, and Keith rides the motion again, laughing. “Wait a little more.”

 

Keith fingers himself until Lance is squirming more than before, more than ever, brushing against Lance’s dick every now and then. He’s still leaning forward, eyes closed, hips jolting backwards to fuck himself against his fingers and Lance looks desperate, eyes wandering everywhere because he isn’t sure where to focus on, on the long line of Keith’s back as he curves up, or the pale white of Keith’s ass, fingers curling, or Keith’s dick, hanging low enough that-

 

Lance bucks again, hurriedly, and his dick brushes against Keith’s, the slight friction delicious enough for Keith to open his eyes and smile lazily at Lance.

 

“I told you, no moving,” Keith murmurs, pressing his teeth against Lance’s collarbone. Lance whines, high and loud, and Keith removes his fingers, rocking back against Lance’s dick, letting it rest in between his cheeks. “Slowly.”

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance repeats, and Keith lifts himself up, sinking down slowly, slowly, so slowly that Lance looks like he’s about to cry. Keith’s barely halfway down before he lifts himself up again and Lance cries out, hips thrusting up in an attempt to keep Keith where he is. “Can you please just, _Keith_.”

 

Keith smirks, gripping Lance’s dick and yeah, okay, the teasing is over. He settles high, lets the head graze his hole and drops, all the way to the hilt.

 

Lance makes a wounded noise, head thrown back and muscles clenched; he looks like a mirage. Keith inhales sharply, and he lifts himself off, until only the tip is in him and he drops again, groaning loudly when Lance brushes against his prostate, entirely by accident.

 

Keith repeats the process, lifting himself off and dropping back until his thighs burn, pleasure rushing through him with every drop, every brush against his prostate and Lance is shaking beneath him, breaths coming out in harsh pants, murmuring his name like it’s the only thing he knows.

 

It’s just him and Lance, the two of them in the room, loud desperate inhales and prayers, murmurs of each other’s names, and Keith loves watching Lance, watching the way he burns up, the way he strains against the ropes-

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith says, like a prayer, and the pleasure explodes as he bounces in Lance’s lap, blindly chasing his pleasure. It hits him like a supernova in his chest, making his toes curl and fingers scrabble against Lance’s skin to find some sort of purchase. He clenches, feeling the pleasure erupt and Lance cries out, hips jerking up once, twice, and Keith feels it, feels Lance’s dick throb and the come ejecting from it, and Lance is left wrung out on the bed, eyes blown wide, quietly trembling.

 

Keith collapses onto Lance, and the boy complains a bit, shifting beneath him.

 

“Good?” Keith asks, tilting his head up and peering at Lance, who smiles back at him, breathy and tired.

 

“ _Very_ _good_ ,” Lance murmurs back, tilting as far as he can to press a kiss against Keith’s hair.

 

It takes Keith sixty ticks to realise that he needs to untie Lance, but by then Lance is asleep, even with his wrists and ankles tied up. Keith huffs out laughter, eyes crinkling, and does the bare minimum for cleanup (which includes untying Lance, he's not an idiot) before cuddling up to Lance, who rolls over and throws an arm across him.

 

Yeah, Keith thinks. He’s definitely in love, jesus, how did he not notice it earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review or drop by my [twitter](https://twitter.com/zxrysky) and [tumblr](http://zxrysky.tumblr.com/) .


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